


Between Bases

by Whisper132



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-08
Updated: 2008-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-23 14:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whisper132/pseuds/Whisper132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fic about Tezuka and Fuji, the day before the day after.  With tea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Bases

After proving to the world, or at least the greater Kantou region, that Seigaku was, once and for all, a mighty, indestructible force, Fuji Syuusuke thought a nap and a sandwich would be nice, maybe even one of the squid and spinach pizzas Yuuta enjoyed.

Tezuka, on the other hand, was content with carrot sticks and fondling his championship trophy, a smaller version of the behemoth that Ryuzaki mounted atop the lockers. Fuji had one too, but he sent it home with Yumiko. The trophy was gaudy and too heavy for Fuji to carry, considering he was also carrying Tezuka's bag so that the captain's injured shoulder wasn't weighed down. Not that the shoulder injury stopped Tezuka from respectfully and stoically – and with a quick upturn of his nose to Atobe – hefting the giant championship trophy over his head for the duration of Tennis Monthly's impromptu photo shoot.

"I can carry it," Tezuka said when they were a block from his house. "You played hard today." Pride glimmered in Tezuka's glasses, mingling with the sunlight and sparking nerves deep in Fuji's abdomen.

"It's fine. I've got it." Fuji eyed Tezuka's trophy. "You don’t' want to drop it." Were Syuusuke the betting sort, he would lay money on the likelihood of Tezuka clearing off a shelf on his cluttered bookcase for the aluminum testament to way too much effort and way too little time paying attention to his wonderful and patient boyfriend who put up with way too much to only be at second base.

Letting Fuji copy his homework only made up for so much.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Tezuka wrestled his jersey for possession of his keys. The giant ring clattered and snagged on loose threads before jingling to the ground.

"Let me." Balancing the bags, Fuji bent at the waist, swooping over the keys and giving Tezuka an eyeful of what he could be getting if he weren't so preoccupied with tennis. Now that the season was over, Tezuka had no excuses.

Fuji wanted to do everything he heard high school boys talking about on the train, only in a sterile environment with mood music, candles, and no possibility of being found by a wandering policeman and dragged off to a police box to await his parents and possible death. Fuji's parents had accepted the fact that their son was eccentric. Eccentric only gave him so much leeway, though. He was still required to be home before seven on a school night unless he was out for tennis or called before four for permission to stay later at a friend's house.

Because Yumiko was clairvoyant and a tattletale, Syuusuke was not allowed to stay over at Tezuka's house on a school night for any reason. She informed their parents that it would be counterproductive and inevitably would result in Syuusuke 'growing up too soon.' Seeing as the premonition came to her during Syuusuke's second week of school, before his legs began to quiver at the sight of Tezuka, Yumiko was safe from any retribution at the time. Now, however, Syuusuke took it upon himself to make sure that he had a friend over when their parents were away and Yumiko's boyfriend was visiting.

"Oishi's organizing a party to celebrate tomorrow afternoon. We can go together." Tezuka cleared his throat and looked down, sorting through the twenty or so keys on his ring. As far as Fuji knew, only three of the keys were actually used. The rest were part of Tezuka's collection. "Mom said you could stay the night if you wanted to." Trophy nestled under the crook of his arm, Tezuka opened the door and held it for Fuji. "You can drop my bag inside. Mom'll want to wash it since the season's over."

Fuji swore he saw Tezuka's hand rubbing the damn trophy. "I should wash mine, too," he said to cover his agitation.

"And you should study. Yumiko told me that your mathematics is slipping." For the first time in three hours, Tezuka set his trophy aside. After making sure the trophy was secure on a side table, he raised his hands to rest on Fuji's shoulders. "The senior high team is very strict about grades. If you don't average 90 in all subjects then you won't be considered until second year."

"It'll be fine." Fuji's math scores were only slipping because homework was a bother and, according to his calculations, his final examination scores should round him up to exactly a 90. He didn't intend to put more work into school than necessary to secure his position on the tennis team and appease his parents. Besides, if his marks were too high Yuuta would feel inferior and come home even less.

"Kunimitsu, I didn't hear you come in." Tezuka's mother walked into the room, slinging a dusty towel over her shoulder. "And Fuji-kun as well."

Fuji and Tezuka Ayana had an odd relationship. They never spoke directly to one another, but addressed the space to either side in an attempt to avoid eye contact. Fuji knew that Tezuka's mother, with the supernatural ability that allowed all mothers to know everything that went on in their children's lives, was aware that her son spent an abnormally large amount of time in Fuji's company. Most of that time was legitimate tennis time. Some of it was equally as legitimate kissing behind a bush in the dark after locking up after practice time.

"It's so good that you've found such loyal friends, Kunimitsu." She spit on the end of her towel and swiped at Kunimitsu's cheek. "I'll never understand how you boys get so dirty playing tennis. Your father played in high school and he never came home this dirty."

Tezuka's father, Fuji suspected, played tennis with the same enthusiasm that his son demonstrated when forced to attend his father's bowling league father and son tournaments. Fuji's father was also a member and, together, they were the regional father and son champions. Their trophy sat on a shelf above the living room door, polished weekly and glimmering in the spotlight Syuusuke's father installed to showcase it. Tezuka didn't speak to Fuji for a week after Fuji commented that the Tezukas' participation ribbon looked very nice in its little frame. Fuji's suggestion that Tezuka might try to play with the mechanics of bowling, rather than endeavoring to Tezuka Zone the ball to the pins went unheard.

Early in their relationship, Fuji often wondered if he was going to have to dress himself as a tennis ball to attract Tezuka Kunimitsu's attention for more than five minutes. The first time they kissed, it was an oral rendition of the Zero Shiki. Tezuka's tongue swirled and flicked, soaring up to tickle Fuji's hard palate before dropping suddenly and tickling Fuji's tongue in such a way that his teeth automatically clamped down. The bleeding only lasted a few minutes and Tezuka was eating solid foods the next day.

"I hope you boys are hungry. Papa is picking up a sushi platter for us. He's picking up some extra wasabi since we know Fuji-kun enjoys it."

Tezuka looked at his mother, then to Fuji. "I'm going to change," he said, walking out of the room, leaving Fuji alone with his placidly smiling mother.

"It's so good that Kunimitsu has friends," she said to the wall next to Fuji's shoulder. "We worried that he was going to be antisocial and have an abnormal childhood."

Fuji liked to joke that Tezuka's antisocial tendencies were going to make him a crotchety old man before he graduated from high school. In a rare display of humor, Tezuka allowed Fuji to gray a few of his hairs using a silver Sharpie and spread rumors that he was going prematurely gray from the stress of the season.

Oishi didn't think the joke was funny at all. Neither did Inui, who pored over books until he arrived at the conclusion that Tezuka was suffering from a genetic disorder common among chimpanzees and laboratory mice. Kaidoh was sensible and brought Tezuka one of his father's hair dye kits, for which he was excused from punishment laps for a week. Tezuka quickly reversed the gesture when Kaidoh and Momoshiro got into a fistfight after Momo called Kaidoh a brown-noser.

"Would you like some tea? It sounds like he's going to shower before he changes." Not waiting for Fuji's reply, Ayana walked into the kitchen. "Come have a seat."

He pulled up a cushion and sat at the neatly arranged table. The dishes were already out for dinner, a giant place cleared in the center of the table for the sushi platter. "Thank you for having me over."

"It's always a pleasure, dear. Your visits mean so much to Kunimitsu. I'm grateful he has such a special friend." For a brief moment Ayana's eyes met Fuji's. In that moment of contact, he knew she knew. "I just hope he isn't growing up too fast," she continued while she measured tea out. "Children want to grow up so quickly, don't they?" She set a cup of tea down in front of Fuji and walked back to the stove.

It was rare for Fuji to feel guilty about anything, but the sad tone of Ayana's words almost got him. Almost. He was neither a sucker nor did he have much to feel guilty over. Taka-san got more play than Fuji did which was not only embarrassing, but somewhat insulting. "He's a good captain," Fuji said. If he pretended to avoid her insinuations, then they could be over this awkward conversation. "He's very focused on exams now and preparing for next season."

"Sorry I took so long." A freshly showered Tezuka walked into the room. "I'm going to put my trophy away now."

Gulping the scalding tea down, Fuji stood. "I'll help."

"Don't take too long, boys. Papa will be home any minute with dinner." Ayana gathered Fuji's cup and gave him one last, long look. "Be careful in that room, Fuji-kun, Kunimitsu won't let me in to clean so who knows what kind of dirt has built up. Don't be careless, hm?"

Fuji followed as Tezuka walked out of the kitchen, grabbed his trophy from entryway, and walked upstairs to his room. When the door shut behind them, the trophy was tossed onto a rolled up futon and Fuji found himself pressed against the door, subject to a Zero Shiki for which he knew the perfect Counter.

Moments later, he was able to have a look around.

"She was right," he said, taking in the bits of paper, peeled grip tape, and tennis magazines littered across the floor. "It's a mess in here."

Pushing back, Tezuka returned to his trophy. "We'll clean off a place for it after dinner," he said. "Then we'll clean the floor."

Fuji basked in the rare sight of Tezuka's smile. It promised an evening of dutiful cleaning, then a night full of joys that Ayana would surely indirectly scold them for. Getting to second base took the regional championships and a long absence from one another. Nationals, Fuji figured, was home run material.

Or a Tezuka Zone at the very least.


End file.
